Needing You
by kinatsurune
Summary: H/D slash, one-shot. Post war, slightly AU. Harry's life takes a turn as he encounters Malfoy in a Quidditch match.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, this is written for fun, not profit. 

A/N: Longest one shot of my life…I guess I was just too lazy to split it up into chapters. :/ Written for my friend's birthday, which I am ashamed to say was like, weeks ago…ehehh..but better late than never right? RIGHT??

Anyway, she is absolutely in love with Harry/Draco, hence this ficcie. Enjoy!!

* * *

**Needing You**

"Aaaaaand the Cannons now have possession of the Quaffle! Whoa there, that was a close one for young Harry Potter, barely dodging the bludger sent his way by Smithers! It seems our beloved Boy-Who-Lived spotted the snitch but before he could execute a move, the Terrapins beater was able to distract him! Back to the Quaffle, passed to Johnson by Drexley, ooh, no, intercepted by Sprites!! And Sprites is weaving his way past the red team, he dodges a bludger – ooh, nice, dodges it again – and makes his way to the red team's side and is he going to score…?"

Harry winced at the deafening cheer as the Terrapin Chaser scored. This was the first time he was actually concerned about not getting to the snitch in time – the Terrapin seeker was very skilled, but unlike most games, that wasn't his main concern. Their chasers were frickin' _fast_. It was certainly a unique strategy; the seeker's speed was usually in a different league than the chasers'. This team, however, seemed to have forgone that tradition, as their chasers were nearly just as fast. Having a wingless, easily visible ball as their focus certainly helped as well.

"…was that the snitch?"

Harry immediately jerked himself out of his thoughts to focus on the game. He berated himself for getting distracted, already spotting the opposing team's seeker racing towards the now obvious gold glint perched near the announcer's box.

"Ooh, will this be a break in the Cannons' winning streak? It doesn't seem like young Potter is going to make it, Malfoy is only a few meters away…"

"Malfoy?!" Harry actually squeaked aloud, so startled his broom actually screeched to a stop. Usually, it was an advantage that the new Firebolt 360 was attuned to his thoughts (or brain waves, to be technical) but this time, it nearly resulted in him being thrown from his broom.

Luckily, his moment of distraction didn't cost him as it appeared the snitch had disappeared before the Terrapin seeker could reach it. Looking closer, Harry now realized it really was his former high school rival, down to the haughty grey eyes and platinum blonde hair that due to flying, was out of the expected meticulous state. The black haired young man was sorely tempted to fly over and get a closer look (and maybe he secretly wanted to actually _talk_ to the blonde, God knew why). He was still in a game, however, and he couldn't afford any more distractions. No matter how big.

Sweeping his spectacled eyes over the field for the gold glint, Harry wondered why he hadn't noticed the Malfoy before. It was several hours into the game, surely the announcer had to have announced the blonde's name at least once before? Except…Harry then remembered that the Terrapins' seeker had actually been injured a few hours ago and had to be replaced by their alternate – Malfoy. So that was why his rival's name hadn't come up during the pre-game introductions. And the blonde hadn't done anything exceptional until now, so the announcer didn't have reason to mention him during the commentary.

'After the game.' Harry reminded himself sternly. Boy-Who-Lived or not, he was still a paid member of a professional Quidditch team, and had to perform to the best of his abilities. No matter how much leniency people tended to give him…

"Wow, either Potter's spotted the snitch again or he's predicting a bludger's going to be on his broomtail sometime soon! Such speed! Such agility!"

If he hadn't been concentrating intensely on performing a convincing feint (which he must have been doing effectively as Malfoy had proceeded to follow him), the black haired seeker would have rolled his eyes. Talk about hero worship…

Although there wasn't supposed to be any pattern, Harry figured the snitch would appear next on the Terrapin side. During a few games in the past, the snitch had appeared more on one side than the other, prompting complaints of unfair advantages. As a result, the high up Quidditch officials or whoever had modified the spell of randomization so the golden ball would appear in a more distributed fashion.

A gold flash confirmed his deductions. Instead of going after it right away, however, Harry first completed his feint, smiling with success as Malfoy veered off towards the other side of the field. Immediately, the black haired seeker turned around and raced towards his tiny, fluttering target.

"AND HARRY POTTER, FAMOUS BOY-WHO-LIVED CATCHES THE SNITCH! THE CANNONS WIN BY 50 POINTS, KEEPING THEIR IMPRESSIVE WINNING STREAK FOR NOW A TOTAL OF SEVEN GAMES IN A ROW!"

Despite the raucous cheering and shouting (and a few booing), Harry was deaf to the noise. After landing, he managed to dodge most of his teammates' eager hands and shoulder pats. Just as he had focused his gaze on the evasive snitch moments before, Harry fixed his emerald eyes on the dodging back of a certain platinum blonde.

"Malfoy! Hey, Malfoy, wait up!"

Strangely, his voice seemed to have spurred the other seeker to get away faster. It was easier for him too, as there weren't eager fans crowding around trying to get in his mere breathing space.

"MALFOY!"

The blonde didn't even turn his head, his green covered back disappearing into the crowd.

* * *

"Harry, where'd you go, mate? The announcer seemed to have a panic attack when he asked for you and you weren't there!" Jonathon, one of the team's beaters, said jovially as he clapped Harry on the back.

The black haired wizard winced, reminded of how his teammate often forgot his own size and strength. "I wanted to, uh…congratulate the other team's seeker. I thought he did really well." Harry said quickly, not feeling inclined to get into a long explanation about why he wanted to chat with someone who had been his most hated archnemesis (next to Voldemort, of course).

"The Malfoy? You wanted to talk to _him_?" Another teammate, Cecile, turned around from her congratulating friends to join the conversation. The female chaser was known for her gossiping nature and sure enough… "Not sure if you should associate with the likes of him, Harry. I heard that once he got wind that his side was losing, he sold his own parents out to the Aurors. Nothing dirtier than a traitor, that's what I think. You pick a side, you stick with it."

Harry shrugged, not wanting to get into yet another political debate about the mystery behind Malfoy's supposed betrayal of the Dark Lord. For all apparent appearances, the newest Death Eater had been the one to deliver the crippling blow to Voldemort, injuring the dark wizard enough for Harry to finish him off. Aurors had found him within the ruins of what was once the Malfoy Mansion, dazed with a wand clutched loosely in his trembling hands. Test after test was performed on the white wand with a skull as a handle, each and every one yielding the same result no matter how unlikely it was to be true. Draco Malfoy had performed the Killing Curse on Lord Voldemort.

What the Ministry didn't disclose to the public (although bits of it leaked out anyway) was something even more puzzling. In addition to Lord Voldemort, Draco Malfoy had (according to the tests) performed Avada Kedavra on his own parents. The bodies of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were found lying only a few feet away from Draco's prone one. And no matter how much the Ministry asked or threatened, the only surviving Malfoy refused to answer. At the time, Veritaserum was running low, and considering who the victims were, the Ministry didn't find any worth in using their precious resources.

Considering this knowledge, Harry had wondered more than once if it was really him who should be considered the Savior of the Wizarding World. But then again, it was definitely a lot more comfortable for the public to give the title to him instead of a treacherous Death Eater. And it_was_ him who delivered the second Killing Curse that finally eradicated the pesky Dark wizard once and for all. Besides, Malfoy seemed to disappear off the face of the planet for the longest time. Until now.

Figuring he might as well make use of Cecile's big mouth, Harry asked casually, "Since when was he seeker? I thought he was hiding out or something."

"Mmm, that's what most people are still thinking." The blonde chaser replied flippantly, waving back to a few more fans. "But he quietly joined the Terrapins as their alternate seeker a couple of weeks ago. Guess they wanted to keep the new addition quiet, considering who it was. Why they accepted him in the first place, I'll never know."

Harry felt himself feeling defensive for the sake of his old schoolmate. No matter how often the Malfoy used his flying skills to annoy him, they were still good. "Hey, he's not a bad seeker. He did almost get the snitch, you know." He defended.

Cecile shrugged, clearly not wanting to extol anything of Malfoy's. She did give him an odd look though, as if questioning why he would come to the defense of the former Death Eater. Harry himself wondered the same thing.

A few hours after the game, the Cannons Quidditch team could be found chugging away happily at the BroomStix Bar in celebration of their win. Normally, Harry would be well into the state of drunkenness along with his teammates, but a certain blonde haired man kept him from losing himself completely. Nursing his half full glass of…whatever it was that Jonathon shoved at him, Harry wondered why Malfoy ran away so quickly. Well, sure, they weren't exactly the best of friends, but it was as if he was afraid of him…okay, so maybe he had good reason to be, considering that the rest of the public hated him. And why was he thinking about it so much?

A loud ruckus rudely brought Harry out of his musing thoughts, and he looked over to see what all the commotion was about. He wasn't surprised when it turned out to be just another drunken play fight between Jonathon and their keeper Chuck, and he was about to turn back around when a pained curse that did not belong to either of his teammates rang out from the same direction.

"Bloody hell, can't you two oafs keep your idiotic fight away from innocent bystanders?!"

Harry's eyes widened as he recognized the familiar blonde now gesturing angrily at his spilt drink on the ground. Malfoy threw up his hands in disgust as he realized the two brawling men didn't even hear him, and he grabbed his coat in a move to leave.

Oh, but Harry wouldn't let him get away this time. Weaving through the tables, dodging his scuffling teammates, the black haired young man zeroed in on his target, who was too busy muttering obscenities under his breath to notice – until a firm hand grasped his shoulder and whirled him around.

"What the fuck-"

"So, the Terrapins, huh? Moving on to different reptilian species, eh Malfoy?" Harry watched in amusement as his former rival's face screwed up first in surprise, recognition, and then finally distaste.

"Potter." He sneered, shrugging off the hand on his shoulder as if it were a Blast-ended Skrewt. "Of course it would bother you I'm not associating myself with the Dark Lord any chance I could get. I was simply _devastated_ I could not find a single fucking team that best symbolized His greatness, considering the absolutely _endless_ number of choices I had to choose from."

Harry held up his hands defensively, not expecting such a lashing response to his casual joke. He was about to respond just as sarcastically when he noticed the other man's slightly glazed look, gray eyes clouded over.

"You're drunk." Harry realized.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Great deduction, genius. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to stumble on out of here with dignity."

It took Harry only one glance at the unsteadiness of Malfoy's stance before he decided. "Here, let me help. You can barely stand on your own."

Malfoy laughed, the noise sounding more like a choked gurgle. "Stand on my own? Of course I can stand on my own. You silly prat, I can always stand on my own."

Now confused, Harry decided to ignore the blonde's drunken ramblings and simply grabbed the teetering man. Hoping his teammates wouldn't notice his sudden departure, Harry maneuvered his way out of the crowded bar as best he could with a rambling ex-Death Eater wrapped around him.

Once outside, the fresh air sobered the Malfoy enough for him to realize who exactly was supporting him. Snatching his arm away as if the contact against the other man physically burned, Malfoy shook his head as if to clear his vision. "Dear God, I must be more drunk than I thought if the oh-so-glorified _Harry Potter_ decided to grace me with his wondrous presence." He muttered.

Amused, Harry replied casually, "Why, thank you. I knew that's how you always felt deep inside."

Malfoy stared as if to verify the other man's existence before closing his eyes with a groan. "Damn, so you are real. Okay, I'm going to collapse now."

"Whoa, hey, no collapsing on a public street." Harry rushed forward to grab the other man in a firm grip. "Come on, Malfoy, you should get home. Do you remember where you live?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, the gesture rather ineffective considering his face was plastered to Harry's shirt. " 'Course I know where I live. Go…uh…that way."

Harry sighed as the blonde pointed to the stars. This was going to take a while.

* * *

Draco groaned, feeling like he'd been hammered under the hooves of a million Buckbeaks. Why did he keep insisting on drinking when he knew this pain would follow in the morning? At least he'd made it back home, judging from the soft sheets under his exhausted body…

Draco abruptly sat up, immediately regretting the action as it made his pounding headache even worse. How had he made it home? He didn't remember hailing a cab, or walking, or apparating…although, that last possibility wasn't very likely, considering how dangerous it was to attempt apparition under the influence of alcohol. Well, the young Malfoy wouldn't put it past himself to have tried such a stupid move.

Wracking his brains, Draco figured some good Samaritan must have taken pity on his pathetic self and helped him get home. He smirked sardonically, thinking they must not have gotten a good look at his face, or he would have been left to rot on the street, no doubt. As he flipped back his covers and placed his feet on the cold ground, the memory hit him like a battering ram.

'Shit. Now Potter knows where I live.'

* * *

Harry hummed to himself, in an unusually good mood for not being a morning person. He noticed Hermione watching him with an amused look on her face, but he mostly ignored it. Instead, he continued stirring the bowl of pancake mix that had been assigned to him, occasionally sneaking a lick when he thought no one was looking.

"Yow, watch it, mate!" Ron yelped as drops of mix flew towards him from across the table. Harry laughed and slowed down his mixing.

"Sorry, Ron."

The redhead grumbled goodnaturedly. "I don't see why we can't just make breakfast with magic…it would be so much faster. And cleaner."

"Because, Ron, this recipe is from my parents and it wouldn't feel right making it any differently. As I've told you at least five times before." Hermione admonished, wiping her flowery hands on her apron.

Harry chuckled. "You gotta admit, Ron, Hermione's pancakes are pretty amazing. Why else would I be here, willingly, so early on a Saturday morning?"

"Early? You call this early?!" Ron squawked. "Excuse me, Mr. Quidditch Player, but some people have to get up at 7 just to get to work!"

Harry laughed again, relinquishing his bowl to Hermione. Although both he and Ron had become Aurors following their graduation, only his best friend had kept up with it. Having been shoved into the war practically since he'd discovered his magical heritage, Harry felt he really needed a change of pace. So, after capturing several Death Eaters in hiding, the Savior-of-the-World decided on something less dramatic for his profession. Quidditch was the perfect alternative, and he got paid to play too. It was an interesting twist of fate that he had ended up on the team that Ron had worshipped for years.

"So guys, did you notice the seeker for the team I played against yesterday?" Harry asked, wondering why the topic hadn't come up before. Maybe his two best friends didn't notice…_he_ certainly didn't until the announcer had actually said Malfoy's name. And now that he thought about it, the name was rather rushed out, as if the announcer didn't want to enunciate it too well.

Hermione crinkled her brows as she thought. "Mmm, no. Should we have?"

Harry shrugged, suddenly deciding he didn't really want to bring it up anymore. It would only set Ron off on another righteous rant about what he believed transpired between the Malfoys and Voldemort. "Nahh, I just thought he was pretty good, I guess." The three friends settled into meaningless conversation after that, although Harry found his mind wandering to the platinum blonde young man he'd helped get home the night before. Maybe he should check on him, just in case.

A few hours later found the black haired wizard standing in front of a plain white door. Harry brought his hand up to knock before he hesitated; Malfoy had been really drunk last night, and had reacted only mildly to Harry's appearance. What would his reaction be now that he was sober? Would he run away again? Although that wasn't very possible, considering Harry knew where he lived now…whoa, that sounded stalkerish.

Shaking his head, Harry decided he wouldn't do himself much good thinking too much and proceeded to knock. He only had to wait a few seconds before the door cracked open to reveal narrowed gray eyes glaring up at him.

"Uh…hey?" Harry was surprised when the Malfoy only sighed loudly and actually opened his door wider. Taking it as an invitation, the black haired wizard slowly walked into the small apartment room.

Closing the door behind his guest, Malfoy crossed his arms. "If you've come to gloat about witnessing my humiliating display yesterday, you can go shove it."

Instead of feeling offended as he would have back during their school days, Harry was surprised to find himself merely amused. Maybe it was because of the slightest splash of red on those pale cheeks. "I didn't come to do that." Harry reassured. "I just wanted to check up on you, you were pretty wasted last night."

Malfoy sniffed, lifting his chin slightly. "I'm not some teetotaler that can't handle a bit of intoxication. Now, was that all?"

"Well, no." Harry answered. "Why did you run away at the game? I was trying to talk to you."

Malfoy let out a short laugh and surprised his visitor by casually flopping down onto the sofa behind him. Harry wondered if he was dreaming – Malfoy? Flop? The idea was nearly preposterous.

"In case you haven't noticed, Potter, I'm not exactly number one on the most lovable wizards list. Nope, sorry, but that honor goes to you." Malfoy mocked.

Now Harry was beginning to feel the old irritation at the other wizard's attitude. It was like the Malfoy _enjoyed _being difficult. "That doesn't explain why you ran from me."

Malfoy shrugged. "I didn't realize it was you. I just thought it was yet another pathetic war victim who still hadn't gotten over themselves and decided it'd be easier to take it out on me."

Now the slight irritation increased to righteous anger. " 'Pathetic war victim?' How can you say that? Lots of people lost everything they knew and loved in the war! It's not something you can get over that easily!" Harry said incredulously. He'd never paid attention to the circulating rumors of Malfoy's heartlessness. No matter how much they'd hated each other in school, the cold image just didn't seem to fit the arrogant blonde. Now though, the bespectacled young man was beginning to wonder if maybe they had some truth to them.

"Well, you win some, you lose some." Malfoy responded casually, looking up at his enraged guest with slight amusement. "If people just accepted that, there'd be a lot less pain and suffering in the world." The blonde said in a dramatic voice.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "You really see things as that simple? Did the war matter that little to you?"

Malfoy shrugged again. "Wars happen. People die." He said simply.

Such apathy was more than Harry could stand, so although he knew it was a low blow, he couldn't stop himself. "Then what is it that you _won_…when you lost your parents?" He asked slowly.

A dangerous glint replaced the casual look in the Malfoy's silver gray eyes. "Don't you dare talk about my parents, Potter." He growled.

"Why? You did it often enough to Ron back at Hogwarts." Harry shot back. "If the war really didn't matter that much to you, why don't you tell me. What really happened the night they found you? The night they found you holding the wand that not just injured Voldemort, but killed your parents?"

Tensed for an angry reaction, Harry watched in disbelief as Malfoy began to laugh. Not just a small snicker or chuckle…but a full blown laugh. The black haired wizard wondered if the other man had finally lost it.

"So…the truth comes out." Malfoy smirked after he regained his composure. "That's what you came for. Isn't it what everyone comes for? To know why I would betray the dark side, even killing my own parents in the process? Why, I bet that's the only reason the wizarding world is letting me stick around…because they hope to figure out eventually the workings of my dark, twisted mind. Sorry, Potter, but just like everyone else, you'll have to settle for whatever it is your imagination can come up with. I'm sure it won't be too hard to fit it into my already naughty image."

"You're an annoying prat, but you're not evil." Harry growled. "Unlike the public, I knew you - even if it wasn't on the best of terms. Besides, you're too much of a coward to commit something like betrayal."

Malfoy laughed again, although not as hysterically as before. "To be complimented and insulted at the same time…I daresay you're actually developing a brain, Potter." The clock softly chimed the noon hour, interrupting whatever more the blonde had to say. "Well, as much as I enjoy standing here while you determine what I can and can't do, there are better things I could be doing. So I will _not_ see you around." He nodded towards the door in a clear gesture of dismissal.

Harry stood for a few seconds in silence before finally striding out of the small apartment. He looked behind him, staring into those nonchalant gray eyes. "You may be fooling everyone else, Malfoy, but you're not fooling me." He said firmly.

The only response was a disarming smile before the door was shut in his face.

* * *

Harry didn't expect to encounter the infuriating Malfoy again anytime soon – yet, only a few days later, he found himself at the bookstore, staring into silver gray eyes once more. Instead of the grudging attitude he expected, the blonde man greeted him almost cordially, as if the incident from a few days ago had completely left his mind.

"Uh…not that I'm complaining, but…"

"You expected me to hold a grudge?" Malfoy finished for him with one of his famous smirks. "Shall I flounce out of here with a huff, shouting at the top of my lungs how the great Harry Potter has wronged me? No doubt, everyone will take my side."

Harry only shook his head, feeling slightly overwhelmed. Maybe it was because he wasn't ready so early in the day to handle such large doses of sarcasm…or maybe, it was because there was something about Malfoy's smirk that unsettled him for some reason.

Malfoy sighed, suddenly looking tired. "Potter, you look like you're going to have a hernia."

"Uh…sorry." Harry stared at the blonde. The other man almost looked…sad. It was incredibly unsettling and so Harry surprised himself by offering the Malfoy to chat over tea. Even more surprising, Malfoy accepted.

And so the two old high school rivals found themselves chatting about trivial things at a tiny coffee shop called Respite. It was amazing how they had managed to hold such a long conversation without tearing each other throats out, and in the process Harry had actually begun to think of the Malfoy by his first name.

As a lull of silence followed their mild debate on house elf rights, Harry decided to venture into more risky areas. Very cautiously, he asked, "So…where have you been all this time?"

Draco seemed to freeze for a split second before relaxing again. A strange expression came over his pale face as he answered vaguely, "Just…waiting things out."

Figuring the blonde wouldn't answer any more than that, Harry went on. "Any reason why you decided to go for Quidditch?"

"Uh, hello? Because I'm damn good, that's why." Draco answered haughtily with another smirk.

Again, Harry thought, that unsettling feeling. Trying to ignore it, the black haired wizard pressed, "No really. You just don't seem like the type to play a sport for your profession." It went unspoken that the reason was because of how much the blonde fretted over his appearance. Although, looking now, Harry realized the Malfoy looked far more casual than a fussy nature would have allowed.

"Hm, well truthfully, I would have preferred something else – business. Or pole dancing." He said it so casually, Harry almost didn't catch it. When he did, the black haired young man couldn't help but blush, to the amusement of the other. "But considering my…level of popularity, there wasn't much I could do. Especially since I didn't technically graduate from Hogwarts, so I didn't have any official credentials to present."

Harry winced, realizing the truth in that. Draco had dropped out of school to receive the Mark in the beginning of their sixth year, betrayed the Dark Lord a few months after that, and then had disappeared up until the present. "The only reason I had a chance was because some Ministry secretary felt _sorry_ for me and decided to make it her good deed of the year to help out a poor, useless, ex-Death Eater." Draco continued, taking a sip of his double chocolate caramel mocha. Harry would never have guessed the blonde had such an extreme sweet tooth. "In exchange for a couple of small lunch dates with her, of course. I had one scheduled with her actually, the other day when you came by."

Surprisingly, Harry's first reaction was not to feel sympathy (or contempt) for his former rival's woes, but a pang of annoyance at this unknown woman who felt the need to intrude on the Malfoy's life. Before he could stop himself, the black haired young man said very casually, "So I guess she's the reason you got your life back together."

Apparently, he wasn't discreet enough, as Draco responded with a loud guffaw. Harry briefly stared at the blonde, realizing he'd never seen his former rival let his emotions show so freely – head thrown back, mouth stretched into a wide grin, and the pleasant sound of unchecked laughter. That hysterical, insane sounding laughter back at Draco's apartment didn't count.

"Damn, Potter, I see you still wear your emotions on your sleeve. Then again, all I saw back in the day was anger, but I figured you were simple minded enough that the rest of your pathetic emotions were expressed in the same manner." Draco chortled again. "We're not a couple. Not exactly a possibility, considering I am not even remotely interested in breasts or vagina."

Harry winced at the rather blunt statement. Something Draco said caught his attention, though. "What do you mean, I wear my emotions on my sleeve? All I asked was if she had really helped you that much."

For just a moment, a look of uncertainty flashed across Draco's face. Harry wasn't even sure if he had really seen it, it was so quick…added to the fact that the blonde _never _looked anything besides confident.

It suddenly hit the bespectacled wizard just how much Draco had changed. Well, certainly not the sharp language…but during their conversation, Harry began to see more and more how the other man's arrogance seemed more of habit than his true attitude. And there were several instances in which the other wizard would say things, little things, that nevertheless contradicted the Malfoy's famous self-confidence. Could public disgrace really produce such a result? It was like Draco was a completely different person.

"…listening to me, Potter? Potter! _Harry_!"

Harry jerked at his name, realizing he'd been staring. "Ahh, sorry…wait, did you just call me by my first name?"

Draco looked slightly exasperated. "Well, you weren't responding to your last. What was so important that you felt the need to zone out in the middle of a sentence?"

"Ah, it's nothing." Catching a glance at the clock on the wall, Harry continued apologetically, "Hey, um, I gotta meet my team for practice at 3."

Draco waved a casual hand as if the announcement meant little to him. "Whatever, go. I have my own practice soon also."

"Okay. Well I guess…I'll see you around then?"

The platinum blonde haired man shrugged, although Harry took it as encouragement that he didn't exactly say no. Grabbing his coat, the young man quickly rushed out of the tea shop with a quick wave. Just before he apparated, he felt the urge to glance back once more.

The last thing he saw before his surroundings spun away from him was the unmasked look of dejection on Draco's face.

* * *

"Harry! We caught at least five more Death Eaters today, you up for joining the celebration? The boys miss you!" Ron exclaimed enthusiastically, his face wriggling in the flames.

Harry smiled but declined his friend's invitation. He'd been unable to get that look on Draco's face out of his mind all throughout practice, and he'd decided he'd ask about it as soon as he was finished. Which was now.

"Aw come on, what's more important than having a drink with your best mate?" Ron whined, his voice crackling in the flames.

"Sorry Ron, but there's something I gotta do. But say hi to everyone for me, will ya?"

"Yeah, yeah sure." His friend's head grumbled before disappearing into the coals.

Hoping Draco wasn't out at the moment, Harry apparated to the blonde's apartment. As the familiar white door materialized in front of him, the black haired young man lifted his hand to knock when he realized it was slightly ajar. About to push the door open, Harry froze as he heard screaming coming from inside.

"-all your fault, it's all your fault!! BRING MY SON BACK, YOU FILTHY TRAITOR!!!"

Alarmed, Harry barged into the apartment room and took in the scene with horrified eyes. Draco was leaning against the wall, an unfamiliar woman standing in front of him with her wand raised. Shards of glass and porcelain littered the floor around them, and Harry realized the woman had levitated plates, vases, basically anything breakable to shatter against the motionless blonde.

Whipping his wand out of his pocket with practiced ease, Harry shouted at the top of his lungs, "EXPELLIARMUS!" The force of his spell was so strong, it not only disarmed the woman of her wand but also slammed her against the wall in a similar reaction of a certain Potions Master in Harry's third year. Thankfully, she was immediately knocked unconscious and thus would not complain.

"Draco…Draco, are you okay?" Harry rushed forward, the two wands gripped in his hands. He knelt beside the prone figure, trying to check for any serious injuries. The dark haired man was immediately puzzled as he saw the wand clutched in the blonde's hand. "Your wand…why didn't you use it to defend yourself?"

To his surprise, Draco let out a broken chuckle. Harry was really beginning to hate it every time the blonde felt the need to laugh at rather inappropriate moments. "Use…my wand? The last time I used a wand, it cost my parents their lives…because of my mistakes…"

Realizing the blonde was slipping into oblivion, Harry quelled his curiosity and said firmly, "Come on, you need to get away from all this glass. Try and stand, Draco." Between the blonde's slipping consciousness and Harry's efforts, the two managed to make their way to the sofa where the blonde immediately sunk into.

Harry turned to deal with the unconscious intruder when a soft voice caught his attention. "Mother…Father…I'm sorry…" When nothing more came, the dark haired man made his way to the crazy woman. He would ask questions later.

Eventually, Harry decided to simply call the authorities and let them handle the woman. She seemed rather hysterical anyway, there was no way he'd be able to get any answers from her. Watching the Ministry officials take her away, Harry heard indications that Draco was beginning to regain consciousness.

"Ungh…."

Walking over, Harry checked the bandages he'd wrapped around the blonde's wounds about an hour before. "Hey, you okay?"

Gray eyes glared up through their haze of pain. "What kind of inane question is that?"

Harry ignored the cranky response. Seeing as how the blonde was feeling well enough to insult him, the dark haired wizard sat on the coffee table and crossed his arms in a no-nonsense manner. "Okay, what happened?"

Draco winced. "None of your business."

"It is my business, especially since it was me who saved you." Harry said seriously.

"Well of course, that's your job – to save. Now that your job is done, could you kindly leave me alone?" Draco growled, attempting to sit up. The minute he tried, however, he groaned and sank back down again, clutching his left arm.

Harry leaned forward, immediately concerned. He could see blood seeping through the otherwise white bandages, indicating his healing spells certainly needed some work. "Look, let me call Hermione, she was a healer during the war. She should be able to help a lot better than me."

Gray eyes snapped open in alarm. "What?! No, no, don't you DARE call Granger, I don't want her and that stupid Weasel to see me like this!"

Harry smirked deviously. "Then tell me what happened."

Sighing angrily, Draco sent the smug wizard a hateful glare before succumbing. "Whatever. Just another psychopath who decided to blame her troubles on me. It's not like this was the first time." He muttered under his breath.

'Not the first time?' Harry wondered.

"Look, just go home, Potter. I've got to clean up this mess, and then call my captain to explain why I couldn't make it to practice." Draco growled, trying to sit up again. Harry moved to stop him, feeling like the blonde would only hurt himself again. "And then I have to go look for a new place, considering that it seems people have found out where I live – aargh!"

Draco yelled as in his attempt to stand up, lost his balance and pitched forward. Not expecting the sudden movement, Harry was knocked backwards to land rather painfully on the coffee table with a frustrated blonde on top of him.

Through the haze of pain, Harry managed to breathe out, "Geez, did she throw a table at you too?"

"Actually, yeah." Came the muffled response. Harry shivered as the blonde breathed against his chest, the headful of blonde hair tickling his chin. The black haired wizard suddenly became aware of the legs straddling one of his own, coming dangerously close to a certain part of his body that he really wished he had better control over. Harry fervently hoped the man currently laying on top of him wouldn't notice.

"Uhh…Draco? Could you possibly get off me now?" Harry asked feebly.

"Can't…move. Pain."

Harry rolled his eyes. The bloody prat was probably just too lazy to get up on his own. Slowly, the bespectacled young man pushed himself and Draco up into a sitting position. Into a rather _awkward_ position, as that now meant the blonde was sitting on Harry's leg with his head still leaned against Harry's chest. "Malfoy, come on, seriously. I know you can get up."

An obviously fake snore was his only response. Resisting the urge to slap the blonde, as that would only aggravate certain injuries, Harry sighed loudly and unceremoniously shoved the blonde backwards so he would land on the sofa.

"OW! What was that for, you prick? Can't you see I'm injured here?" Draco protested indignantly, gray eyes open from their fake slumber.

"Stop whining." Harry scolded. "Look, there was something I wanted to ask you, which is the reason why I came in the first place."

"And what's that?"

"When I left the coffee shop," Harry started, making sure to watch the blonde's impassive face carefully. "You looked like I had just told you to go jump off a cliff or something. Why?"

Draco smirked slightly, making Harry's stomach flutter. He was beginning to get an idea of exactly what that feeling was, but he really didn't want to look into it right now.

"Did I? I didn't realize."

When nothing more came, Harry pressed, "Well? What was wrong? Was it something I said?"

Draco sighed. "Not so much of what you said…but what you didn't say. But honestly, it was a stupid thing to hope for, so just forget about it."

"No. I want to know."

"Well, we can't always get we want, now can we?" Draco suddenly snapped, his previously mild tone replaced by something akin to resentment. "Look Potter, thank you and all for getting rid of that crazy woman for me, but I'm sure you have better things to do."

Angrily, Harry stood up to glare down at the infuriating blonde. "Why are you constantly pushing me away?" He demanded. "It's like you're bipolar or something, one second you're all nice and friendly, and then the next you're yelling at me for some wrong I've committed against you! What, do you still think we're kids and we can't be friends just because I'm a Gryffindor and you're a Slytherin?"

"Oh please, if there's anyone who should be saying that, it should be me." Draco sneered.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't tell me you forgot already." Draco smirked sardonically, although this time Harry didn't feel that same feeling as before. Probably because the ugly resentment was so evident in those gray eyes that Harry could swear it burned into his own gaze.

"Forgot what?"

" 'Potter, there's something I want to discuss with you.'" Malfoy began speaking in a high pitched voice in a passable imitation of his younger self. " 'Um…do you mind if we talk in private?'"

Harry's mind whirled as he suddenly remembered a day that he had considered insignificant enough to completely displace from his memory…

_flashback_

"Harry, are you okay?" Hermione asked worriedly, glancing at the still steaming teen. "Come on, cheer up. We're going back to Hogwarts!"

"Yeah, I know, I'm just…argh, sorry, I'm just in a really bad mood because of the Dursleys." Harry tried to give a reassuring smile to his worried friend, although he felt it came out as more than a grimace. "Don't worry, I'll get over it soon…"

Nodding, Hermione engaged Ron in a conversation so as to give Harry his space. He was grateful for his intelligent friend, who had figured out he merely needed some time to himself to get over his unpleasant mood.

Unfortunately, luck didn't seem to be with him as the compartment door slid open to reveal a certain platinum blonde. Harry was in such a state of irritation however, that he failed to notice the presence of Malfoy's usual cronies at his side. Instead, he stood and pulled his wand out, already readying himself for the confrontation.

Imagine his surprise when a lost look crossed the usually contemptuous face. Harry imagined his two friends were just as shocked as he was. "Potter, there's something I want to discuss with you. Um…do you mind if we talk in private?"

Despite Malfoy's unusual countenance, it wasn't enough to completely convince Harry. He wasn't feeling particularly in the mood of getting caught in some new ambush the devious little Slytherin was no doubt planning by acting all innocent. "No. Whatever you have to say to me, you can say in front of my friends." He said stiffly.

"Uh, okay…well, look, um…I know this may be hard to believe because of me being a Slytherin and you being Gryffindor and all, but…can I ask…" Malfoy's voice tapered off as he seemed to have difficulty churning out the words. After taking a deep breath, however, he started again in a more confident tone. "Can I ask that you give me a second chance?"

All three Gryffindors stared, unable to believe their ears. It was such an unexpected turn that they concluded it had to be a joke.

Harry sighed. "Malfoy, I'm really not in the mood right now. Why can't you just stick to your usual tactics of bullying, hiding behind Crabbe and Goyle?"

Had Harry's eyes not been closed, he would have noticed the look of intense hurt flash across gray eyes. Without a word, the blonde retreated from the compartment, closing the door behind him.

_end flashback_

Harry would have pondered on the event a bit more if Malfoy hadn't reverted back to his usual snarky self over the next few days. As a result, he concluded it really had been an attempt at a joke, albeit a strange one. He had never considered the blonde was actually serious.

"That day…what were you trying to tell me?" Harry asked softly, dreading the response. He suddenly remembered that it was only a week after that day that Malfoy had fled Hogwarts to join the ranks of the Death Eaters. The two events couldn't have been related… could they?

Malfoy smirked again. "Pride wasn't an issue because at the moment, I had nothing left to lose. It was my last chance to let you know how I felt, because after that I would never be able to face you without being ordered to kill you."

The feeling of dread increased. "Draco, what are you talking about?"

Draco laughed. "Don't worry Potter, you can wipe that look of guilt off your face. It wasn't because of you that I scurried off to the Dark side. No, that honor rests with my father."

Harry was beginning to feel annoyed with the other man's cryptic answers. "Malfoy, could you please say things in plain English?"

"See, that's the problem, Harry. I was quite clear to you even back then, but you refused to see it." Draco snapped. "That day wasn't the first time I tried to tell you something important only to have you brush me aside for the mere Slytherin I was!"

Harry shook his head, still feeling confused. "What did you expect? I mean, seriously, how would you have reacted if your mortal enemy of over five years suddenly decided to be nice to you?" He demanded. "You can't exactly blame me for something like that!"

"Fine then, I was wrong to count on that infamous Gryffindor nobility." Draco said contemptuously.

Harry threw up his hands in exasperation, feeling like he was going to explode. "I thought you didn't hold grudges anymore! Why this one!?" He yelled.

"BECAUSE I'VE LOVED YOU FOR SO LONG AND YOU NEVER FUCKING NOTICED!!!"

Dead silence followed. Harry could only stare at the top of Draco's head, as the blond haired man had bowed his head to avoid the emerald gaze. After simply sitting there in silence for a few more seconds, Harry said very softly, "That day when I asked you about why you ran from me at the match…" When Draco didn't interrupt, Harry continued in a slightly louder voice.

"You lied, didn't you?" Harry asked. His accusation was only confirmed as Draco's only response was more silence. "You didn't run that day because you thought I was just some random person out to get you for being a Malfoy. You knew it was me."

Gray eyes closed, concealing the pain that Harry realized had always been present ever since that fateful Quidditch match. Why hadn't he noticed it before?

'Because you were so caught up in satisfying your damn curiosity about his parents that you didn't care to notice.' A nasty little voice scolded him in his head. And Harry knew he couldn't argue.

"How long?" Harry whispered.

Draco looked up, his face looking like it had been carved out of stone. "Ever hear the saying about the fine line between love and hate?" He murmured. "I think it started the day you dared to stand up to me for that Weasel…but I didn't realize until my father offered me the Dark Lord's ultimatum."

"And that's why you wanted to tell me." Harry said softly. "Because you were afraid you'd never have the chance after becoming a Death Eater."

Draco laughed, making Harry want to squash that hysterical noise out of the blonde forever. "You didn't even give me the consolation of a rejection – I was left to wonder how you would have reacted if I had been able to tell you. Even now…even now, you hesitate in telling me your response."

Harry realized the truth to that statement – although Draco had loudly confessed his love, Harry was unsure of whether he reciprocated the emotion. Love? Draco Malfoy? How could he be sure?

And then the black haired wizard was reminded of that fluttering feeling in his stomach everytime the blonde smirked at him. Or the way he subconsciously noticed those long, pale fingers grasping eagerly at the gigantic cup of double chocolate mocha. Or the sheer terror coursing through his veins when he'd broken into the apartment to see his Draco hurt, lying on the floor, bleeding…

'_My_ Draco?' Harry thought to himself. 'Well, that clinches it.'

Reaching forward, Harry lifted Draco's bowed head by the chin to stare into shining gray eyes. "I may not have felt the same way for as long as you did…" He paused, then suddenly smiled. "But it's just like you to worm your way into my heart in the course of just a few days. Honestly, you just have to get what you want right away, don't you, you little prat?"

His words broke the dam, and the tears began to fall. Harry placed his hands lovingly over the now wet cheeks and brought his lips forward, swallowing the gulping sobs as if he could take away the other man's pain. Draco brought his bandaged hands up to thread into thick dark hair, pulling the other closer.

After what seemed like a long moment, Harry broke the kiss and moved to sit on the sofa next to the still sniffling Malfoy. The two men simply sat there for a few moments, basking in each other's presence. Harry would have been perfectly content to stay like that, except Draco began speaking softly.

"You would love me…even considering what I had done to my parents?"

Harry was silent for a few seconds before responding carefully. "I don't know the whole story, therefore I refuse to judge you based on rumors. Besides, I would know better than anyone things aren't what they appear to be."

Silence reigned more. Harry was about to think that was the end of things when Draco began to talk again. "I didn't do it on purpose, you know. It was just…I was such a failure that the Dark Lord kept getting angry. I would never succeed in fulfilling my missions while at Hogwarts because of my cowardice. And then…he found out the reason I kept failing anything concerning you."

Harry's breath hitched. "He found out your feelings for me?"

Draco nodded, the motion unseen but felt against Harry's chest. "It was such a blow to him." The blonde murmured. "To my father, too. I was to be punished – I think, executed. But father…no matter how disgusted he was with me…I was still his son." Gray eyes clouded as he remembered back to the day that changed both his life and the wizarding world.

_flashback_

"Draco, how could you? How could you betray us like this?" Lucius cried in an anguished voice, gripping his son's shoulders so tightly they began to bruise. Draco didn't answer, only looked away in shame.

"Think of the repercussions…to have the son of the Dark Lord's right hand man to hold stronger loyalties to the Boy-Who-Lived! Draco, _why_?!"

"What do you mean,_why?_" Draco suddenly shouted, breaking out of his father's hold with a fire in his gray eyes. "I can't help how I feel, father! Why are you blaming me?"

Lucius was about to respond when another Death Eater appeared behind the bars of the cell room to unlock the door. "Lucius…your time is up. The Dark Lord wishes to see him."

One look at his son's blood-drained face, and Lucius made his decision. Gripping his son's arm, he pulled Draco out of the cell, heedless of his son's struggles. "I will take him to his Lordship, Goyle."

Draco felt the familiar feeling of his stomach dropping out from under him as his father apparated. He closed his eyes tightly, expecting to immediately face the wrath of the Dark Lord. Instead, the young teen felt himself roughly shoved against the wall by his father's strong hands. "Listen to me, Draco." Lucius hissed urgently. "I am going to conceal you with an invisibility spell – it is an extremely strong one, but one that only lasts if you do not move. Stay completely still until I call for you – only then, enter the Dark Lord's chambers. _Do you understand_?"

Confused, all Draco could do was nod as his father released him and murmured an unfamiliar spell. The young Malfoy felt as if his blood was turned to ice and he was tempted to clutch his arms before his father shot him a warning glance. "Remember, come the _minute_ I call for you."

It seemed like an agonizing eternity before Draco finally heard his father's call. Eagerly, he broke the invisibility spell, glad for the regular warmth of room temperature. He pushed open the doors to the Dark Lord's chambers, not knowing what to expect.

Draco's gray eyes widened. "F-father! Mother!" He gasped, feeling his knees beginning to give out under him. The bloodied figure of his father knelt over the –impossible- over the prone figure of Lord Voldemort. Behind Lucius stood Narcissa, a determined look on her thin face as she held her wand over his father's back.

"Draco, come quickly." She said in a strained voice. "This spell is the only thing keeping your father alive, and we don't have much time. Take the Dark Lord's wand."

"But-"

"Draco! Do it now!" Lucius snapped, then immediately coughed up blood.

Horrified, Draco scurried to obey, snatching up the bloody wand with a white skull for the handle. Touching the thing gave him the creeps, but he held onto it for his parents' sakes.

"N-now what?"

"The…the killing curse." Lucius coughed again. Narcissa's wand wavered as her life-sustaining spell seemed to waver. "Perform the killing curse on Lord Voldemort."

"Why…why me?" Draco's arm quivered.

Despite the pain he was obviously in, Lucius managed to smile slightly. "You have only been a Death Eater for a few months…and you are young. Society may yet give you another chance, a chance that will only be increased if they discover that it was you who delivered the crippling blow to the Dark Lord. He will not die from this, I have heard the prophecy that only Harry Potter can vanquish him…but maybe, if you play a role in that, you will be saved the fate of Azkaban and maybe even be regarded as a hero."

"But…but what about you? And mother?"

Narcissa winced as her spell began to fail. "We will escape as best we can. When things have settled down, we will look for you." She reassured in a shaky voice. "Do it, Draco!"

Nodding, the blonde teen shakily raised the white skull wand and pointed it towards the Darkest wizard of all time. "_Avada Kedavra!"_

An unearthly scream issued forth, not from Lord Voldemort, but from the wand itself. Confusion, then horror reflected through the gray eyes of young Draco as he watched the green light of the killing curse not only engulf the Dark wizard but his parents as well. He could only watch helplessly as both his parents screamed in pain, screaming, screaming for so long…

Draco barely noticed as the rest of the house was engulfed fire, nor did he notice when a few hours later, the Ministry officials carefully pulled the wand from his hands. All he could see was the motionless bodies of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and all he could hear was their piercing screams.

_End Flashback_

"I killed my own parents." Draco whispered, more tears leaking out of his tightly closed eyes. "They tried to help me, and I killed them. How could I mess things up so badly? They say the killing curse is the deadliest of the Unforgivables…not only because of the obvious but because it is the easiest to perform. So how could I screw that up?"

Harry was nearly overwhelmed with this information. All this time…Draco had not only been carrying the pain of unrequited love, but the guilt of the belief that he killed his own parents. In addition, although Lucius had succeeded in keeping his son out of Azkaban, he had failed in the hopes that his son would be seen as a hero. Instead, Draco was branded a traitor in the Wizarding World's eyes and even if the status was not made official, it was enough to make the former Death Eater's life very hard indeed. How had he lived like that for all this time?

"Draco…Draco, listen to me. It wasn't your fault."

"Harry, don't try and make me feel better-"

"No, listen to me." Harry interrupted urgently. "No one but me and Dumbledore knew this because we were the only ones to get close enough to Voldemort's wand. He placed numerous spells on it so that anyone who tried to wield it himself would be unable to control the spell. Most likely, when you tried to perform the Killing Curse on a single person, Voldemort's rigged wand made it go out of control to include anyone in the near vicinity as well. It wasn't your fault, Draco – it was Voldemort's."

There was a moment of silence before Draco began to shake. At first, Harry was worried the blonde had begun to sob, but he became even more worried when he realized it was due to laughter. He really needed to talk to the Malfoy about these recurring bouts of hysteria…

"Harry…why didn't I meet you before?" Draco hiccupped, staring up with a gleam in his eyes. "It would have saved me a hell of a lot of trouble…"

Harry smiled uncertainly, unsure of how to respond to that. "Well, better late than never, right?"

"…yeah…"

* * *

"Come on Harry, why can't you just tell us the lucky girl's name?" Ron wheedled.

"Yes, honestly Harry, I don't see what all the secrecy's all about. From what we've heard about her so far, it doesn't seem like we know her anyway." Hermione agreed, accepting her redhaired husband's hand as they exited the car. Not only had Harry insisted on keeping his new lover's identity from them a secret up till now, he had insisted they take a car if only to draw out the suspense even more. Sometimes, Hermione wondered if her black haired friend had some kind of sadistic streak in him.

Harry grinned. "All will be revealed in due time." He said dramatically as they trudged through the snow up to the front door of his and his lover's home. As they entered his home through the kitchen, Harry's smile widened even more. "In fact, this will be a surprise to _him_ too, as_he _doesn't know you guys are coming."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed. "It's a man?" Ron just goggled on the side.

Before Harry could respond, a peeved voice began yelling from within the house. "Harry, did you take my clothes again? I don't care _how_ many times you ask me to walk around in the house naked, I refuse to-" The speaker froze as he emerged at the top of the staircase, slightly wet with only a small towel barely covering his essentials.

"M-Malfoy!" Hermione gasped. Behind her, a certain redhead fell to the ground with a thud.

**--****End--**


End file.
